


Mountain Songs

by TrickyJerseyGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gabriel in love, Gabriel is a Softie, Gabriel is romantic, Gabriel plays guitar, Guitars, Song Lyrics, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, fluffy fluff, seriously it's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyJerseyGirl/pseuds/TrickyJerseyGirl
Summary: Gabriel wants to visit the Himalayas, and he takes along a guitar. Good thing Tia has a sweet spot for musicians.





	Mountain Songs

They were in Tibet, in a cabin somewhere in the Himalayas. She preferred his place in Bali, truth be told, but Gabriel decided he wanted to grow a beard for the hell of it and also that he wanted to see her in tight sweaters. Plus he’d also always wanted a sherpa, so the Himalayas it was. She didn’t mind all that much. Like all his homes, this one was beautiful and she did love a fireplace or two. Plus he looked damn good with a beard, and those shoulders in a tight, long sleeve thermal or a henley, and lately he’d taken to throwing on a well-worn leather jacket if he was chilly in the house. For all that, a girl can get used to cold weather, and all the body heat that helps chase it away. 

She been out for a brief walk. The snow reminded her of winters with Bobby when she was a child, and she loved the crisp, clean smell of it. But it was dusk and the temperature dropped quick once the sun went down, so her walk hadn’t been long, and Gabriel had promised hot toddies when she came home. That wasn’t the only hot thing he’d promised either, but she’d told him toddies first. She might even have meant it.

She closed the cabin door behind her and started removing her outdoor layers and her snowy boots. He’d left her fleece-lined slippers out for her and sure enough, there was a steaming cup of whiskey, honey and spices on the table. There was also the sound of a guitar and a voice singing a song she recognized. “If you’ll be my dixie chicken, I’ll be your Tennessee lamb, and we can walk together down in Dixieland, down in Dixieland.”

She followed the voice into the main room of the cabin, with its gorgeous views of the mountains. She stopped in the doorway and quietly watched, and listened. Gabriel was leaning back on the couch, his eyes closed as he played the guitar and sang. She hadn’t known he did either. Well, not with skill, anyway. When he sang in the shower, it was always loud, ridiculous, and filthy. But this was different. She watched his fingers dance on the fretboard and pick the strings, and his voice was low and soft. The smile on his face was one she’d never seen before either, and it made her heart beat a little faster. She always did have a weak spot for musicians. 

She waited until the last verse, then walked fully into the room, joining him the chorus. Gabriel looked up in surprise but didn’t stop singing, though his smile grew a little wider. She sat beside him on the couch, just watching his hands as he played out the end. His hair was a little too long and his beard was a little unkempt and with that guitar in his hands, he was hitting a whole lot of her buttons. She felt a sudden shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature outside and had a sip of her warm whiskey.

He smiled widely at her. “Hey, baby. I didn’t hear you come in.”

She kissed him. “You always hear me come in.”

“I get a little distracted when I play,” he said.

“I didn’t know you played,” she said. “Which means you didn’t know I have a hell of a sweet spot for a boy with a guitar.”

“Yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Then make yourself comfortable, gorgeous girl. Because you’ve got yourself a front row seat.”

He played song after song for her. He had a penchant for classic rock and southern rock, moving smoothly from the Stones to the Allman Brothers to Stevie Ray Vaughan and more. When he played “Desperado” by the Eagles, she got chills; it had been her father’s favorite song, before he died, and Gabriel’s voice was melodic and sweet enough to make her eyes a little misty. 

After he’d played for about an hour, he looked up. “Enough?”

“Never,” she smiled. “Play something for me. Something that makes you think of me.”

“Shit, babe, Happy Birthday makes me think of you.” He winked. “But I know what you mean. This one always reminds me of you, how you make me feel divine and human at the same time, and how…” He blushed, just a little. “Look, I know I don’t age, but it makes me want to grow old with you, okay?”

She leaned forward and kissed him again. “Play.”

He did. And he began to sing, “When I got home from work, I wanna wrap myself around you. I wanna take you and squeeze you 'till the passion starts to rise. I wanna take you to heaven; that would make my day complete. But you and me ain't no movie stars, what we are is what we are. We share a bed some lovin' and t.v., yeah. That's enough for a workin' man; what I am is what I am, and I tell you babe, you’re just enough for me.”

By the time he finished, she was misty-eyed again, and so damn in love with him, she thought she’d burst. He must have known it too, because he put the guitar on the floor and opened his arms to her. She went into them and he held her against his chest, gently stroking her hair. 

After a few minutes passed in comfortable silence, he said, “So, what do you say, Geeg? Wanna be my groupie?”

“Groupies tend to get around,” she said. “And you are the jealous type.”

“I said my groupie. As in mine, all mine. You’re not getting around anywhere, madam.” He tightened his arms around her. 

“So possessive,” she teased. “Lucky for you I don’t plan on getting around without you.”

“I am lucky,” he said. “Always have been.”

“You got lucky, baby,” she sang. “When I found you.”

He pushed her up off his chest and turned her to face him. “Now who’s the one who hid their singing voice? Equal time, lady.”

As he picked up his guitar again, she tried to protest. “You don’t even know what I would sing.”

“Yeah?” he asked, tuning up. “Start singing. I’ll catch up. My turn. You sing something for me. I’ll hear the music in your head, don’t worry.”

“Your song almost made me cry,” she said. “And turnabout is fair play.”

“Let me worry about that,” he said. “Come on, gorgeous girl. Let’s hear it.”

“‘Til my body is dust, ‘til my soul is no more, I will love you, love you,” she sang, her voice pure and clear. “‘Til the sun starts to cry, and the moon turns to rust, I will love you, love you.” 

He picked up on the chords quickly enough, but his hands had started to shake ever so slightly when she began the chorus, “But I need to know, will you stay for all time? Forever and a day. Then I’ll give my heart ‘til the end of all time, forever and a day.”

The guitar was placed on the floor and barely a second later, his hands were on her face and his mouth was on hers. “You win,” he said against her mouth. “You absolutely win.”

She smiled as she kissed him back. “I wasn’t aware we were competing.”

“We weren’t,” he said. “I wasn’t, I mean, you weren’t, there wasn’t…” He kissed her again, his hands now in her hair. “Christ, I love you. Like I’ve never loved anyone, mortal or immortal.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “ You are everything.”

“Oh, my sweet angel,” she said, kissing him on the forehead and carding her hands through his dark gold hair. “I love you.”

He held her close for a long minute, the sniffed and chuckled. “This is why everyone calls us gross.”

She pulled back and smiled at him. “Good thing there is nobody around. We can be as gross and romantic as we like.”

“That’s hot,” he grinned. “Let’s get absolutely disgusting, then.”

“After hot toddies,” she reminded him. “But if you’re good, you can bring the honey to the bedroom.”

“Oh, sticky and disgusting. I like.”

“I know.”


End file.
